...being tired of unconventional posts, darkness of an infinite quality, cheese bread and work. Novel writing for a month - tick tock but at twice the normal speed with hours lopped off days, and minutes off hours. Finished History essay. Ask me a question and I will answer. Lloyd George, Liberal reforms, social evils, Insurance, school meals for kids. Maybe the milk cartons too. Everyone was once a milk monitor at school, When We Were Young. Animated milk carton music video always makes me cry. Must be something about the song. Milky. Blur.

Tonight, and cold finger-tips. Pandora, what do you play now? Sister Hazel. You Can't Put Your Arms Around a Memory. Bath. Lush. Suds. Submerged ears. BANG. Fire-works fire-engine fire-crackers. Fire. Alarm! Music dark dark night and Hungarian peasant-esque slippers. Being warm inside and remembering kisses in town with people walking past and leaves falling slowly from trees, settling around our trainer-clad feet.

Tomorrow promises autumn and fallen leaves. Do not walk past without jumping in: orange, red, brown. Tomorrow is back to school to pick up old coursework and a barrage of nostalgia. Which former teacher will remember me best? History and he calls me "I'm Charlotte". I'm Charlotte, ask me your questions. Art? Science? Will I laugh at the ties, isolation and the no-coats-inside-the-building-rule, or cry at the familiar, almost tangible smell of five years?

Don't be allergic to me. I'm no kiwi.

Carry on "tired of conventional posts" and link back here. I am tagging Matt and Meredith.